Extracurricular Activities
by KendrixTermina
Summary: Given that it was originally conceived as a training ground for aspiring young nobles, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the Officer's Academy offered a wide range of clubs and diversions designed to prepare the prospective young rulers in its care for every possible challenge. Largely various assorted fluffy pre-timeskip slice of life pieces.


Since time immemorial, the mighty walls of Garreg Magh monastery had stood atop a stunning mountain covered in thick forests. Through the ages, while carts had gone to and from one of the most central, most holy sited in the country, much of the surrounding woodland had gone untouched all the same, ruled by nothing but the primal elements themselves, unperturbed by the civilization that had sprung out and endured all around it.

The same steep slopes that provided for the ancient fort's strategic location would have made it a fool's errand to till the surrounding land, which meant that there was no shortage of stunning natural scenery nearby, for all that it's beauty might easily have been overshadowed by the magnificence of the holy sites nearby.

In the years since the officer's academy had been established, the forests had often come in handy as a training ground to hone the student's path finding and survival skill, or even just as a simple hunting ground to ensure that the monastery's many occupants would have a steady supply of venison – officially, spending a year in the Church's service was supposed to teach its pupils some manner of humility, but in practice, the nobility generally expected their offspring to provided with the sort of luxurious fare that they would have been used to back in their territories and at least some token access to tried-and-tested noble pastimes such as the blood-sport of the hunt.

Of course, in recent years, not all the students at the officers academy were nobles, (or even Fodlanese) and many of those less conventional students, and even some of the faculty had found all manner of new uses for the sightly greenery all around.

The newest appointee to the academy's teaching staff often found their way here whenever they were looking to find some time to themselves.

Taking long, regular walks through the woods certainly served its purpose as a form of regular, regular training exercises, but above all, it was a morsel of habit and familiarity.

Before their arrival at Garreg Mach monastery, it had not been unusual for Byleth and their father to spend a great deal of time on march through all manner of terrain, seldom staying in the same place twice, and almost always keeping their distance from the large cities.

To find themselves as the academy's most popular professor after such an an isolated, nomadic life had been something of an adjustment, and while almost everyone at the monastery had at some point told them that they had been doing astoundingly well in their new role, especially given their relative youth and lack of prior experience, it could still get a little bit overwhelming once in a while.

But with the cover of the canopies offering such a tempting getaway just outside the monastery grounds, the former mercenary had really not been too surprised to find that they had not been the only one to come up with that idea.

On one occasion, they happened on another such example near the rise along a small trench that had been worn into the forest floor by a clear, softly purling creek that made its way over the rocks and the clay-like earths beneath it: A petite, bespectacled blonde boy who had ostensibly carried and easel into the woods and poked its wooden legs into the mud so that he might capture the rustling little waterway's likeness on the strip of canvas before him.

He had certainly been getting bolder as of late, just from the much increased amount of equipment that he had dared to smuggle out of his dorm room – not too long, he would have agonized about bringing as much as a stack of papers and some pencils. Now, it was apparent that he could not have stomached the absence of his proper palette and brushes, if that's what he felt would be needed to truly capture the small stream's romantic essence within the texture of his brush strokes, or to do justice to the minute distinctions of color between the barks and leaves of the surrounding trees.

He was working diligently on a simple, realistic picture of the woodland before him, but at the same time, one could tell that the work meant something more to him.

Byleth couldn't say that they understood the ins and outs of it, but the young man before them was clearly in his element here, his usually quite timid and restrained mannerisms replaced by a passionate sparkle in his big hazel eyes.

By now, Byleth would have chanced the guess that they were mostly past the point where he would invariably get started and deny what he was doing as soon as they showed up, but even if he now knew that his secret was safe with them for the foreseeable future, it might still take him a split-second to realize who exactly had discovered him, and so, the former mercenary made sure to approach with care, lest the young man's careful work get smudged in a moment of surprise.

Thus, the professor waited patiently until he had picked up the crunch of the old leaves beneath her boots and turned around on his own accord.

"Oh! Professor! It wasn't you to come by..."

He couldn't quite suppress the reflexive nervous flinch when he noticed that his instructor's eyes had already darted past his shoulder toward his latest piece of work.

"Indulging in your 'pastime' again?" they asked, flatly, echoing his earlier words on the subject as if it were some conspiratory code word between the two of them.

"Well, I- eh… Yes." he admitted, failing badly at not looking sheepish.

"It's just that I came by this spot the other day, and I couldn't help but notice how the trees are all kind of individuals… All trees are mostly… 'tree shaped', but they also each have their individual features – a missing branch, a patch of lichen, a bird's nest, some tilt or curvature in their silhouette… Each tree has grown here over the course of many years, with their own story – "

Catching himself in the act of impassioned speech, he felt duty -bound to pause and made sure that the professor wasn't showing signs of getting bored with his explications.

"I'm sorry if that sounds confusing, I guess what I'm saying is that people are kind of like trees… if that makes sense..."

"It does."

"Really professor? You think so, too?"

Even with the explicit permission to ramble, one could tell that he still expected his bubble to be popped at any moment, as if sharing his thoughts on what he loved could not have been anything other than an imposition.

Such was the case with many of the students – At once, Bernadetta and Linhardt came to mind as further examples. Somehow they all seemed to think that no one could possibly want to listen to them.

As of late, Byleth had often had the impression that their work consisted largely in making a dent in all the restriction that this unfair irrational world had placed on all these bright souls and all their apparent potential.

Whether it was crushing expectations, various social inequalities or the results of political turmoil, it seemed like almost everyone in the monastery had their own baggage to untangle. Seeing it all, they could only conclude that this world was in a dire state.

At the same time, it's not like they couldn't see what Ignatz had meant:

"You mean that each of of us has their own story and features that make them unique, just like these trees, right?"

"Exactly! Everyone has their own likes and dislikes, their values and ideals, their strenghts and weaknesses..."

"And their own little hobbies."

"Yes! Exactly! Well, except for you, professor… not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean, there's nothing wrong with relaxing now and then, but being focused on your work is important too! And you're probably very busy, having to prepare out lessons and such..."

"It's nothing such as that, I just wasn't used to thinking of anything much beyond the next day's march, or the next day's battle."

"Aha..." Ignatz mused thoughtfully.

"So you never really had the opportunity to find something you would enjoy..."

"I probably could have, it just didn't occur to me..."

Pausing in his work, the bespectacled boy took a moment to regard the small stream, ever different bursts of water passing by the landscape, vague, formless and following down the pull of the forces acting upon it.

From the corners of his vision, he noticed that the professor's ultramarine gaze had followed his own.

"You know, if you wanted, you could try find something now, just to try it out and see if you enjoy it… maybe you could drop in on one of the extracurricular clubs at the academy..."

"Extracurricular clubs?"

"Yeah! There's quite a lot of them actually, after all the academy was originally meant as a training ground for nobles, they tend to do stuff like art, music or horse riding all the time… But there's also clubs that are more related to learning useful skills for warriors, practicing survival skills, or things like extra weapons lessons…

They're mostly meant for the students, but I'm sure everyone would be thrilled to have you in their clubs! Professor Manuela often helps with the music club, or shows up for the prayer circle… And professor Hanneman frequently joins in with the Magic Research Club, or even the official tea circle… There's quite a lot of them, so I'm sure there will be at least one that you like- " The boy was beginning to be mildly enthused about his idea: "Oh, I know! You could start with the fishing club! Leonie's a member. You _do_ like fishing somewhat, don't you? At least, I think I've seen you at the pond the other day..."

"I wouldn't really call that a 'hobby'," Byleth supplied. "It's just something I kind of used to do with my father. They were out of supplies at the dining hall, so I decided to pitch in."

"Aha..." Ignatz noted, his earlier venture into bubblier speech notably pruned. "It was just a suggestion, anyways. You could go to a different club.

Or, you could try them out one by one until you find one that you like...- It can't hurt to try out something new once in a while, right?"

"Is there an art club, too?"

"Yes, but I'm not a member..." Ignatz admitted, chiefly sheepish but not without a noticeable twinge of longing. "After all my parents didn't really send me here to have fun… It would be nice, of course, with the monastery's funds I'm sure they must have high quality supplies…

But that's probably not what I should be doing with my time here..."

"Why not? There's nothing stopping you. Your father's not here to complain."

"That's nice of you to say, professor…

But no. I can't just look past my responsibilities..."

If Byleth appeared to be staring at nothing in particular, that would be because they alone could see the outline of a girl floating near the riverbank, bare feet just above where the legs of Ignatz's wooden easel had left its mark in the dirt.

He had left some time ago after concluding his tree painting, leaving the professor free to appear as if they were conversing with thin air.

"_The inner workings of mortals are so complicated!"_ she huffed, arms flying to the folds of her ornate garment at her hips as she leaned forward. _"However do you cope?"_

Byleth wasn't actually sure to which degree they were qualified to answer the question, which didn't end up mattering as the pointy-eared gremlin did not wait for them to speak.

Though forceful, she appeared to be coming from a place of concern: _"Clearly, he very much _wants_ to go to this club thing, so why doesn't he just do it? You already said that he wouldn't tell his father..."_

The professor considered this a moment. They didn't know for sure, but they could think of several likely options. "Maybe he just doesn't want people to see his paintings? Doing something for fun doesn't mean that you'd prefer doing it in front of people, or to make a living..."

The apparition before them pouted, unconvinced: "Are you sure he's not just embarrassed?"

They would have added that meddling in Ignatz' private life decisions was none of their business, but since they had somehow wound up as the boys' instructor through some arcane reasoning only known to Lady Rhea, it technically _was_ their business in a sense – no, more than that.

More than once, Byleth had found a note in the advice box which has suspiciously resembled Ignatz' handwriting, asking about people to discuss art with and motifs or models for his next artwork – precisely the sort of subjects that one would expect to be discussed in a club dedicated to art. They recalled the glow in the bespectacled boy's eyes when he'd talked about how he loved to make people happy with his art – it was hard to picture a future where he could possibly regret the delighted looks on the faces of his friends when they finally got to admire his paintings.

They needed no Divine Pulse to predict _that…_

Though the former mercenary had to admit that the subject of art fell outside their area of expertise, they couldn't help but be impressed by the boy's passion and love for his art. They were supposed to be giving the advice, but though Ignatz might not suspect this, in a sense, Byleth was actually the one feeling humbled here:

Though Byleth wasn't exactly certain about the year of their birth, they were certain that the students at the academy had to be around their own age – in fact, many of them were probably a couple of years younger, and yet, they all had their passions, plans, their creeds and ideals, and a few could even boast of outright missions.

In terms of experience, strategy and strength in battle, Byleth had them so far outclassed that they could be giving them lessons, but in terms of having a purpose, passion or goal to which to dedicate their life, they couldn't measure up now, and they certainly couldn't have back when they were Ignatz' age. Even the ones whose aim was mostly to be left alone, or to avoid getting caught up in the various going-ons and laze around still had an _aim. _

Byleth, meanwhile, had worked as a mercenary because they father did, and now, they had become a professor because Lady Rhea said so.

Sothis had once described them as a boulder rolling down the path of least resistance, and though they'd be flippant to her face, in their rigid, unmoving heart, they couldn't really deny it.

They couldn't say that they had ever experienced the sort of strong passion that would have propelled them in another direction… and they'd never really thought about it or minded it much.

Except, that was no longer quite true.

When they thought of Ignatz' dreams going to waste because of nothing more than his anxieties and adverse circumstances, they could no longer be indifferent.

If nothing else, it seemed like a criminal squandering of a bright and gentle soul.

If Byleth had anything like a dream, something akin to Ignatz' art, Linhardt's interest in research or Ingrid's ideals of knighthood, they'd do anything in their considerable might to make it come true…

So the least they could do was to put their considerable strength in the service of those who had a need for it.

"_I see that my good influence has not been wasted on you!"_ Sothis remarked, casually commenting on the professor's thoughts. _"Granted, your father helped too. A little. _

_But whatever shall we do about your little friend?"_

Well, the more Byleth considered, the less they thought that it was a case of simple timidity.

It's not that Ignatz didn't want to show his work to people – rather the opposite: He was probably afraid that he might like it _too much_. He had, after all, long since given up his aspirations of becoming a painter, and relegated his art to the empty slots in his schedule, resigned to the certainty that it could never have been anything more. But if he were to show his paintings to more people, that would give it weight again, make it feel real… and that might give him hope, which he didn't know what to do with and which he feared might soon again be dashed –

But that might not be such a bad thing after all. If Ignatz was going to make a decision about his future, then he should base it on the odds as they really were, not on the resignation he had conjured up to protect himself from disappointment.

"_So you agree that me must come up with a plan here, yes? Best we do it right now, before I get all sleepy again..."_

That was not what they'd said, but Byleth didn't think that Sothis would let herself be dissuaded.

"_He clearly wants to do it, all he needs is a little push – some excuse for him to tell to his exaggerated sense of duty..."_ narrowing her big emerald eyes, she thoughtfully brought a hand to her chin. _"Maybe we could kill two birds with one stone here!"_

Byleth raised a single eyebrow.

"_Well, if you recall, the boy seemed rather keen on getting you to join a club of some sorts! Perhaps he would feel less guilty about it if you were setting an example? You might propose a bargain of sorts... He goes to art club, and you shall go to some other club, just like he said!"_

"I'm not sure" Byleth replied, mulling it over as if it were some sort of battle strategy. "...I've never done that before…"

"_Neither has your little friend. But he was right about something. That whole thing about people being just like trees? Another thing that people and trees have in common is that they are _always growing._ That's as true for you as it is for your students."_

Byleth could not deny this – thus, the various little gears in their head went to work to devise a strategy. That, at least, was still well in familiar territory.

Byleth had never been in any sort of school club before – they'd never been in a _school_ before, until they'd run into the house leaders and been appointed to their teaching position without an explanation. But they'd made _that_ work hadn't they?

Joining some sort of club could hardly be much more difficult. Besides, as they say, there's a first time for everything…

* * *

Some of the upcoming highlights shall include:  
\- Ignatz' ongoing heroic effort to find Professor Byleth a hobby  
\- The great Garreg Mach arm wrestling tournament  
\- Various questionable attempts at fusion cuisine  
\- Sylvain's continued insistence that all his more intellectual inclinations are but a ploy to bewitch the ladyfolk  
\- Dimitri breaking everything he touches  
\- Eliminating unreasonable ideals of Literature Club with Lady Edelgard  
\- The legendary exploits of the "Spreading Enjoyment and Excitement all over the World with Claude von Riegan" Brigade


End file.
